Butt-Yah!

For months now Elsie has been saying a phrase that I have not been able to figure out. When driving in the car she'll just yell out, "Butt-Yah!" If we're at home telling Rory about our day she'll add in happily, "Butt-Yah!"

I have been so confused, similar to how I felt every time Ivar would yell, "Sockie BooBoo!" when he was this age. It clearly means something. And I have had to work so hard to crack the code. But I did it. I've finally figured out what Butt-Yah means.

It means, "park." Butt-yah is the way Elsie says that little one syllable word. I have no idea how she got there, but I'm certain I'm right. I'll ask her, "Elsie, do you want to go to the park?" "Butt-yah!" Or, "Elsie, tell daddy where we went today." "Butt-yah!" And when we're driving around and she sees any sort of jungle gym out her window she'll let us know what she sees, "Butt-yah!" It's a happy word.

My next mission is to figure out how she has gotten from park to butt-yah. I'll keep you posted.

our first wiener roast

What joy. We had a whole lot of relatives to our house tonight for a wiener roast. My whole lifetime is filled with wiener roasts at my Aunt Louie's or Grandma B's farms. But tonight we hosted our very first (of many I hope)! It makes for simple menu planning and there is no hot dog better than a skin on dog cooked on a stick over the fire. My Uncle Don is so prepared he has a battery-operated rotating stick for perfectly even marshmallows and hot dogs. He commented that his nephew got it for him and he thought it was a joke, but as it turns out this rotating roasting stick really works well.

The family gathering was to celebrate my cousins Richard and Karen and their kids who are in Minnesota for a week of vacation. The time together with everyone was awesome and left me with a heavy ache in my heart, missing my Aunt Jan and my Grandma B so, so much. The night was lovely and fun and it was just so wonderful to all be together, but the ache feels just as deep and true as those good feelings. Those two would have loved tonight. Everyone played hard, ate good food and reconnected. It was the best.

These two were particularly wonderful. Ivar and Kevin are kindred spirits. Kevin is four years older than Ivar and lives in Seattle, but the two just seem to click. You  might remember the two of them from three years ago (the last time they saw each other) when Kevin taught Ivar "Soooo big!" and then signed them up for the talent show at our family reunion:

Well they've still go it. They played up in Ivar's room for much of the night. When I went up to take their picture I said, "Kevin, go by Ivar and his trains and I'll take your picture." And the two of them were so appalled by the idea of a staged shot. Kevin said, "but I'm actually not playing trains." And Ivar added, "mom, he's playing over there and I'm over here." It was as if they were in total agreement that a staged picture would be disingenuous. So instead I had to catch them in action which wasn't hard because they were together all night long.

It was pure joy to be all together. Relatives are the best. It left me ready to plan a big family reunion with the whole clan. Maybe 2015...

scheduled spontaneity

As we drove away from the strawberry patch on Saturday morning, Rory asked if I wanted to take a country drive with the kids. I was thrilled. Rory has been wanting to show me a small town he had recently driven through telling me many times how stunning that area was. So we started driving. I had the camera in my hand and took some pictures out the window as we drove. And sometimes we stopped and got out to take a picture or two.

And all the while our kids ate strawberries.

While driving home we stopped in a small town for burgers. Our meal was awesome and the day was pretty near perfect. The kids were in great moods and we were too. It felt like we were completely on vacation, except that we were within 30 minutes of our home. It was just that great of a morning.

It was during lunch that Rory commented that he had figured something out about us. We have sort of a constant struggle with spontaneity versus scheduling. I tend to want more spontaneity in my life, whereas Rory is a bit more calculated. Often I'll say, "let's go to Ikea!" And then he'll say, "Now? And I'll say, "Yes!" And he'll say, "It's 4:30. It will be 5:30 when we get there and Elsie goes to bed at 6:30. We won't get home until 7:30 or 8. The kids will fall apart long before we get home." And I'll say, "Why do you never want to do anything fun? Ever?" And he'll say, "I just don't want to go to Ikea tonight. Maybe we could go earlier in the day on Friday." And I'll say, "I wish you were more spontaneous." (end scene.)

So I nearly gave him a high five when he remarked that he thinks spontaneity happens when we schedule things. In other words, if we schedule more activities, more outings the spontaneity will follow. As it happens, Saturday morning was wide open until 1:00. We had planned to go strawberry picking, but what we did after that time was spontaneous.

I think this is going to work for us. I think we cracked the code.

I mean, it's not perfectly spontaneous to schedule ones spontaneity. One might even remark that they sort of cancel each other out. Oxymorons, I believe. But this is marriage and marriage is all about give and take and better understanding how the other operates and this solution does feel like a pretty equal mix of both of our personalities. And based on the awesomeness that was Saturday, I'll take it.

I'd end this post there, but there is one other factor that is harder to plan. And it's this: it seems that some days are destined to be awesome and other days are destined to be...not awesome. Have you experienced this before? Saturday was a day where nothing could go wrong. And it didn't. It just kept getting better. The day was bliss. But we've lived other days that we just can't get a break. Nothing goes right. Moods are sour and never turn better. Unplanned things come and thwart the day and no matter what, you can't really get your train back on track. We've had enough of these days to know that you can't really fight it. Sometimes on these sour days, I think it might just be best to go home and call it a day.

I don't believe there is a solution to remedying these rough days, other than recognizing that they happen too. That you can't force a magic morning, but you can fully enjoy it when it comes along. And on Saturday it did come along, in the form of scheduled spontaneity.

strawberry pie

Elsie had us up real nice and early on Saturday morning encouraging us to seize the day. So we did! With our sleepy eyes and some of us still in pajamas, we loaded into the car to go and pick strawberries.

We went to Silkey Gardens, our favorite place to pick for our third year in a row. I was almost nine months pregnant the first time I came, pictured here. And then last year we came in the evening with two kids contained in strollers. No strollers this year!

The picture above might lead you to believe that Elsie was a helpful picker. And actually, she was a tremendous picker and an equally skilled eater. I nearly begged the woman at the end to please charge us more because we definitely ate more than our share while picking, but instead she just took a picture of Elsie's face. The evidence was there, but the owner didn't seem to mind a bit.

Ivar was a great picker and at one point he stood up tall as if struck by the best idea of his life and screamed, "Oh I know! We can make strawberry pie!!!" Nearly every picker in the field looked up to see if he had been yelling the good idea to them. He was so loud, and so excited.

And so that's what we did. On Sunday, while Elsie was napping Ivar and I made a strawberry pie. It was my Aunt Louie's recipe and it was delicious. The recipe was easy peasy, but took a bit of time because Ivar could eat the strawberries as quickly as I could cut the stems off. He was delighted the whole time, and I started to wonder if he didn't believe this was the first strawberry pie ever made. Like it was his own genius, original idea.

But no matter whose original idea the strawberry pie was, it was for sure genius. We sat at the picnic table and ate the whole pie, just the four of us. At one point Rory said, "Ivar, you want more?" And Ivar stuck out his tummy and said, "No, because I might get a big tummy ache!"

Afterwards Rory said, "I don't know if this is just the sugar talking, but this is one of my favorite moments ever since we moved here."

And then, last night after the kids went to bed we turned the last of the strawberries in to strawberry jam. We were looking for recipes that used raw honey as the sweetener, but we needed a special kind of pectin and other ingredients that we didn't have in the cupboard. So we went with the original recipe: four cups of strawberries to seven cups of sugar. That's right: seven. People. That is insane. I actually think I got diabetes just by measuring out the sugar. But I'll tell you what. It tastes delicious. And is going to make for one mighty fine pbj.

I wanted to make freezer jam so we could skip the canning, but Rory wouldn't have it. So together we canned eight half pints of jam. It made for a sweet late night date night in the kitchen.

So strawberry weekend was a success.

Elsie can't say strawberry. She says, "blaa blaa" while sort of rolling her tongue. It's hilarious and not even close to strawberry. But we all know what she means so it's effective. I'm pretty positive she is about to say in the picture below, "Mo Blaa Blaa peas!"

our growing garden

Last night we had a salad from our garden. There are few things as satisfying as eating the food you planted yourself (or that your husband plants himself...) It is such a great feeling. And looks at that swiss chard! The stems are hot pink, bright yellow, red and orange. It's stunning.

While we were taking these pictures Rory commented how even if we never did anything with this cabbage, we should always plant a lot of it because it just looks so cool. We love our cabbage. And actually, I just saw a pinterest tutorial on making cement print stepping stones for a garden, using the imprint of large leaves... Those look pretty perfect in this picture!

The whole garden is really coming along. It's  beautiful out there. And so far not too many critters. Rory bought a plastic owl on amazon and has not had a bird come near his strawberries every since. Which is pretty awesome.

Some of our alfalfa wasn't cut and that stuff has flowered purple. I have a dream to not get it cut every time, and to let the whole field turn to purple.

And our sunflowers are in bloom! We thought these guys would get six feet tall, but clearly didn't read the package! They are beautiful though. I love having them against the old barn wood.

Have a great weekend everybody!

hard work

Living on this little farm is a whole lot of joy. Our conversations lately have revolved around animals. Do we want to get pigs next year? Maybe goats? Maybe a cow. When should we order our fryer chicks? How soon will we need that mobile coop for the chicks? Where will we process our honey?

These are all really fun conversations. It's the dreaming stuff. It's exciting. And we're excitable.

But there has been a little pace shift this spring that I am just now starting to put words to. And it has to do with the fact that Rory already works a full time job. So every other project has to happen in the afternoon and evening.

It means that often, I lose my husband to the outdoors until the sun goes down.

And this is fine. I signed up for this. And everything he is doing, I want done too. I want the apple trees watered. I want the blueberries mulched and the sweet peas trellised. I want the law mowed and the flower boxes weeded. I want the rocks picked out of the field.

I'm fully on board. But I'm just here to mention that there are some harder adjustments to this life out in the country.

I helped on Sunday night with the rocks in the field. I actually was out there for quite a while, proud of myself, thinking about that scene in Sweetland where the husband and wife harvest all of their crops by hand. We weren't quite that couple, but since rocks seem to be one crop our field grows super well, it did feel applicable.

But then I remembered that the kids had hopped out of the cab of the truck, and that I hadn't seen them in a while. So I went looking and when I found them I had a diaper to change, supper to make, baths to give and kids to put to bed. Rory worked the whole time out in the field and I was very aware of our new routine. It's a good life, but there are just a whole lot of plates in the air.

And don't get me wrong. I have enough large scale farmers in my life to know that I know nothing about long hours during planting and harvest and never even seeing my spouse during those times. But I'm just saying, for a hobby farm, there is a whole lot of time and hard work that goes into all of these hobbies!

I love my bees

I came back from checking on my bees on Friday morning so, so happy. Bee keeping is a really calming, quiet and almost meditative practice. I am aware of my breathing, aware of my posture and where I am walking. The sound is calming to me...and maybe it helps that I'm inhaling a bit of that smoke too. Who knows.

At any rate, when I go to uncover the bees there is a special adrenaline that comes when you see that they are thriving. It's exciting. And it's so amazing. They've been working so hard since in the seven days since I saw them last. This picture below is the board directly under the white lid. There are always bees on this board, building comb.

This month has been so rainy, that my greatest challenge in bee keeping, has been finding dry kindling to light in the smoker. We had so many rainy days that Rory finally suggested I dry some pine needles in the oven at 250 for 20 minutes. I flipped it over half way through and the whole kitchen filled with a smell that was something of a cross between Christmastime and mud pies. But it totally worked. This stuff smoked like crazy.

In one of the books I read, way in the beginning, it recommended always starting with at least two hives, so you would have something to compare each hive against. The picture above is one hive and the picture below is my second hive. From the start the hive above seemed healthier. And we added a second box a whole week earlier than the bottom hive. And actually, I would admit that I probably should have waited even another week or so before I added the second box to the bottom hive.

It is as if this hive pictured below can't keep up. I think I overwhelmed those bees with too many frames, too soon. I'll be interested to see how they're doing in another week. This was also the hive that I found big ants swarming under the lid. It was so gross. Hopefully another week will show a healthier hive. But again, having the two hives to compare has been really helpful and quickened my own education.

And I'm learning fast. And mostly I am learning that I really, really love bee keeping.

Today I'll leave you with this fun fact:

When worker bees return to the hive, they tell the other bees where the flowers are by doing a little dance:

• The Round Dance: If the bee walks in a circle, and then turns around and walks in a circle the other direction it means the food source is close by. The other bees go outside and fly in a circular pattern near the hive until they find the flowers. 
• The Waggle Dance: This dance tells bees that a food source is far away. It also tells which way to fly. The dancing bee makes a figure eight. She waggles her body in the middle of the figure eight. If she waggles straight up, the other bees fly toward the sun. If she waggles to the left, the other bees fly to the left of the sun. If she waggles to the right, the other bees fly to the right of the sun.

AMAZING!